


French Tips and Gunmetal

by Master_of_the_Rebels



Series: The Red Hood and Hoodlum Verse [2]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Hoodlum AU, Jason loves it, M/M, Tim is a saucy minx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_of_the_Rebels/pseuds/Master_of_the_Rebels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason has a few thoughts regarding Hoodlum's latest...uniform.</p>
            </blockquote>





	French Tips and Gunmetal

The clink of metal skidding across wood was a dull resonance in the dimly lit living room when Tim tossed his gun over to the coffee table.  It slid all the way to the edge, teetered for a moment, and then thunked against the wood.  Tim smiled.  Perfect aim, as always.

 

“So, you gonna tell me what all of this is about?” Tim shot a sparing look of annoyance at his older partner for interrupting his little victory moment.

 

“No.”

 

“Oh, come on!” Jason twisted to the side to let Tim past him.  “Give me something!  This is too crazy for me not to know what’s going on.”

 

Tim plopped himself into a plain wooden chair, legs spread unashamedly as he reached down to draw a small knife out from the heel of his left shoe.  Jason had to look away for a minute.  “How is running from gunfire too crazy?  It seems to happen on a regular basis with you.”

 

“Hey, I resent that.” Jason looked back, disbelief shuttering his face as Tim began pulling small weapons, thin wire, another _gun_ , from his corset.  “How are you _doing_ that?  And don’t change the subject.  Why did your undercover mission require you to dress like a hooker?”

 

Tim stood, discarded paraphernalia in a disarray on the floor around him.  “Plans changed.  I did what I had to.  I got the information on that drug cartel underboss, by the way.  You should be thanking me.” He turned away, ready to brace a foot on the chair to start taking his stilettos off.

 

“Hey, wait, turn back around for a second.”

 

“What?  Is there something—” Tim stopped, staring at Jason’s smug grin before glancing down to see the man’s fingers kneading one of the fake breasts through the corset.

 

“ _Very_ nice craftsmanship on these.  You design them yourself?” His tone was borderline smarmy and Tim looked back up with a deadpan expression.

 

“Really?” He shook his head in disbelief.  “Mature.”  Knocking Jason’s hand away from him, Tim went back to unbuckling the strap of his stiletto.

 

Jason’s head leaned back, getting an eyeful of Tim’s ass and inhumanly sexy legs, foot rested up against the chair so Tim could reach the shoes more easily.  Really, a man should not be allowed to look that erotic.  This young man specifically.  Because it did things to Jason’s libido that he really didn’t think he could deal with at the moment.

 

“Damn it, I hate these things.” Tim scowled when his fingers fumbled at the buckle, the thin straps unwilling to listen.

 

Jason just managed to stop himself from quipping, “Definitely have to disagree with you.” Instead, he bumped Tim to the side and sat himself down in the chair.  With a lascivious smirk, he patted his thigh and offered, “Come on, I’ll do it for you.” Tim’s whole face did this magnificent twitch that Jason was very proud of himself for creating, right up until Tim lifted his leg and dug the heel into the top of Jason’s thigh.

 

“Oh, please, that’d be a great help.” Tim sneered, enjoying the abrupt look of pain from his partner, only easing up when Jason gripped his ankle tight enough to hurt.

 

“Asshole,” Jason muttered.

 

“Creeper,” Tim shot back.

 

Jason’s upper lip lifted at the insult before he went about doing what he’d offered, wrangling the patent leather strap through the buckle and pulling the shoe off.  Tim rested a hand on the older man’s shoulder for balance as he lifted the next one up for Jason to deal with.  When he’d tossed the second shoe away, he stopped, hand still resting on Tim’s ankle.

 

Jason stared at the fishnets covering Tim’s smooth— _hairless_ —skin, the diamond pattern and shine doing weird swirly things to his vision.  Without even realizing, his hand slid up to the back of Tim’s calf, eyes fixed in a weird trance.

 

“Jason?” Tim’s curious voice broke Jason’s reverie, and he pulled back, Tim retrieving his foot.

 

With a sigh, Tim curled his toes into the soft carpet, relieved to be back on flat footing.  Ignoring Jason’s clear mortification, he padded towards the bathroom.  He still had the thigh highs on, but they weren’t uncomfortable, and right now, his priority was to get the crap off his face.  Eyeshadow was itchy.

 

Jason moved towards the kitchen, yanking open the small fridge and pulling out a beer.  Twisting the cap off, he tossed it over his shoulder into the sink.  Tim hated finding the metal tops in there.  All the more reason to do it.

 

He passed Tim on his way the couch, the younger man making his way to the mirror—the one in the bathroom had broken a month back during one of Jason’s lesser moments, and they still hadn’t gotten around to fixing it, so they’d just been making do with the one in the living room.

 

Jason settled on the edge of the couch, watching Tim behind him as he started untangling his hair from the dangling clip on earrings he’d been wearing.  As Jason nursed his beer, he mused over the fact that Tim still hadn’t changed out of the lingerie, booty shorts and all.

 

“I really gotta say though,” Jason sat back, arms sprawled across the top of the couch.  “I’m liking the new look.” Grinning, he brought the mouth of the beer bottle to his lips and added, “Maybe we should consider making some changes to Hoodlum’s usual uniform.”

 

With a low scoff, Tim replied, “It’s called blending in, idiot.”

 

“Hey, I’m just saying, this is new.” Jason held his hands up in peace.  “You’ve never really gone quite this far for undercover work.  I mean, how far did you even go?  With that getup, my imagination’s running wild.” 

 

“It’s just this, don’t get any weird ideas.” Tim’s tone threatened.  “It’s not like I was actually servicing anyone.” Tim started to lift a cotton ball wet with makeup remover while Jason continued to snicker, but paused.  His eyes swept over to watch Jason from his peripheral, lips parting in a mischievous quirk, and he dropped the cotton on the counter.  Now _there_ was a thought…

 

Jason almost choked on his next swallow of beer when toned arms wound around his shoulders, the back of his head nestled in Tim’s extremely realistic falsies.  Wicked fingers ghosted up his stubbled jawline, teasing a light pinch of his earlobe between two of the black French tips.  Another hand dragged those same perfect nails in a harsh descent on his chest, raising angry red lines in their wake and forcing the man to bite his cheek to stop from moaning.

 

“But Jay,” the throaty drawl of his name had Jason close to vibrating with anticipation.  “You’ve never complained about my methods before.” Jason nearly swallowed his tongue when those fingers played dangerously at his pants’ waistline.

 

Breath held, Jason’s pulse beat harshly in his head, as Tim hesitated over the button of the jeans, undecided on how far this little game would go.  Their tease and retreat routine had been happening for a couple months now, but this was the farthest it had managed to get.  And Jason swore, if that last step was taken and his button popped open, he was flipping Tim over on this couch and starting a whole new routine. 

 

A routine that would involve a lot of lube and Tim screaming his name into the cushions.

 

The scrape of a nail circling the small metal fastening was unbearably loud in the thick silence, and Jason almost caved right then.  Half a beat away from closing his hands around Tim’s wrists, Tim pulled back, and Jason could have cried at the loss.  His dick was certainly protesting the complete 180.  Considering it had been mere inches from Tim’s oh-so-talented fingertips, Jason could understand the complaint.

 

He glared after Tim, who had wandered back to the wall mirror and proceeded to wipe off his makeup, revealing a still uniquely attractive face.  Jason’s narrowed eyes caught Tim’s in the reflection, earning him a questioning look. 

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.” With a toss of his head, Jason threw himself back onto the couch, arms crossed over his chest.  Tim’s face show how unconvinced he was and he took a few steps closer so he could see Jason.

 

“Obviously, it’s not nothing if you’re…” Tim gestured, at a loss for the right word.

 

“Tch.  It’s not like you even care.” Jason glowered, teal eyes sparking with righteous indignation.

 

“Wha—are you… _mad_ at me?” Tim asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow at the unmistakable pout on the older man’s face.

 

Jason sighed, head falling back on the armrest.  “I’m not mad at you.” His head lifted just enough that he could peer at Tim over the back of the couch and clarified, “My dick is upset with you.  But no, I’m not mad.”

 

Tim’s snort of disbelief was one for the records, and with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he turned away towards his bedroom.  “You’re ridiculous.  I’m going to sleep.”

 

“With me?”

 

“With my pillows!”

 

“Well, that’s not nearly as fun.” Jason smirked at the incoherent scream accompanied by the slamming door.  One arm crooking behind his head, he sent his other down to squeeze once over his half-hard groin.

 

“Don’t worry, big guy.  There’s always tomorrow.”


End file.
